


someday we will meet again

by fossilizedbirds (pigeonsatdawn)



Category: Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys & Sophism (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Goodbyes, How Do I Tag, Light Angst, Sad?, Songfic, This is Bad, i guess, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:36:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27121912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pigeonsatdawn/pseuds/fossilizedbirds
Summary: there is no possibility of a happy future for them, not in this timeline.(a songfic.)
Relationships: Lauren Sinclair/Kieran White
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	someday we will meet again

**Author's Note:**

> for @/heathersky on discord, and @/heathersky.333 on instagram — go give her a follow because she makes the amazing-est art and has bombass concepts!
> 
> to one of the first (if not _the_ first) friends i made from the discord server, fellow indonesian and blackjack, spewing poetry like it's nothing and being woke asf and always being loving and caring to people — **happy birthday**.
> 
> the song that goes with the fic is **[someday we will meet again](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2oxfPz6LYXI)** by KLANG, an OST. (if you really want your ears to bleed, i made a [cover](https://soundcloud.com/ellensing_s/someday-we-will-meet-again) of it.)

**LAUREN REMEMBERS THE** time she first came to Kieran’s apartment, months ago, when she was injured and Kieran carried her over his back all the way from the Grim Goblin. Now, she’s walking on two feet, semi-voluntarily—again, Kieran had insisted that they talk in his apartment, as they should stop having their rendezvous outside, and clearly his apartment was better than his cave. They walk side by side in silence, footsteps slowing down as they reached the steps leading into his apartment.

Kieran wordlessly unlocks his apartment. Lauren hesitantly enters. The place is just as she remembered—immaculate, impersonal, spare for the stray sketches he leaves out on the desk. She sees sketches of the recent places they’ve visited, including Circus Royale, the slums of Greychapel, a brief visit to L’Arlequin, and her own house, the Sinclair’s estate. She wonders for a moment why he sketches these places, but doesn’t ask.

Kieran sees her staring at the papers, though. And for some reason—maybe because he knows, it may very well be the last time he sees her—he tells her: “I… sketch to remember.”

Lauren raises an eyebrow at this. “Remember?”

“I think you out of all people know how inhuman I can turn when I’ve lost myself,” Kieran says quietly, leaning against the drawer, eyes set on the desk. Lauren also turns away at that, looking at the sketches again instead. Kieran continues, “I’ve been sketching for a long time now, just to… just to remember what it’s like to appreciate the simple beauty of humanity without having to destroy it.”

Lauren takes a look at the man in reminiscence, eyes lost in memory. She wants to tell him that, if anything, she’s one of the only people who’s seen him in his most human form. She’s the one he’d shown his most human side too, one of the few people who _can_ and _should_ understand him better, where he’s coming from and everything. She wants to reassure him and tell him that he’s still human, that his efforts aren’t in complete vain.

But then she remembers why she’s there, in his apartment, in the first place. They’re a few days away from Viscount Redcliff’s ball, where they’re assuming the big blow up will happen. And even if it isn’t then, it’ll be soon, and they have no more reason nor time to remain together. Whatever goes down, neither could see a positive outcome. If death doesn’t claim them first, the law will. The only constant is that they’ll be separated from each other.

And so Lauren thinks it’s futile to bother. To try. To tell him that, after all this time, after all they’ve been through, that there is a chance where he’d face a decent punishment, that there’s a chance he could redeem himself, that there’s a chance he could be with her away from all the influence of the royal family and the law and the chaos of the Phantom Scythe. The world still goes on; they’ve witnessed this the hard way in all their nightly excursions. They’re reminded of this everyday. There is no chance for them to live as _just_ humans.

Lauren has always wanted to admit to Kieran that she doesn’t hate him as much anymore, that she can see him as… as human. But she knows that will bring about a change in their relationship that the world cannot agree. They’re too broken, anyway. No matter what they do, they can’t ignore the past and everything that went down within them. They can no longer be the most of themselves when they are with each other; the scars are not there to leave.

“I have more,” Kieran tells her. When she doesn’t respond, he heads over to the room, the usually locked one, and Lauren’s curiosity sent a rush of adrenaline down her skin, but she is again reminded of the reality. So before he can open the door, she holds out a hand.

“Don’t.”

Kieran looks at her with a blank expression, clearly trying to mask his feelings. Lauren doesn’t know whether he’s feeling relieved, pain, or simply confusion. She knows it mustn’t have been easy for him to decide to reveal something personal, and she is quite sorry that she has to refuse. She doesn’t like this, _any_ of this. She wishes she could just see Kieran’s most human side, see why he is the way he is, without thinking of the future. But the future is in a few days, and she can’t keep ignoring it.

Kieran, seemingly having realized this too, simply nods, dropping his hand from the door handle. He heads over to the bar stool and sits down slowly, and Lauren takes the seat across him. For a while, they sit in silence, staring at the small flame emitted by the candle, the one illuminating the entire room.

“What do we do?” Lauren asks hopelessly. They’ve run through just about everything, on the way home from infiltrating the 6th precinct. “Do you really reckon we can still prevent the whole thing from happening?”

“We’ll just have to do as we’ve been doing, Lauren,” Kieran says, a solemn expression on his face. “We try, no matter the outcome. We’ve never been sure we’d make it out alive, in any of our investigations. We do them anyway, and here we are.”

Lauren scoffs ironically. “And we’ve just about run out of luck, at this point,” she says dejectedly.

“Look at me,” Kieran says.

Lauren, taken aback by the softness in Kieran’s voice, is compelled to look at him. She stares into his eyes with a tinge in her heart, the blue orbs she see conveying so much emotion she’d never have expected to be present in his said-to-be cold heart. He says her, ever so softly: “You’ll make it out alive. I’ll make sure of that.”

“You think I’d be able to live, if you sacrifice yourself for me like that?” Lauren asks, a slight glare, but with no malice.

Kieran shakes his head, a slight chuckle playing on his lips. “Who says I was going to die? No, Lauren. I’m the Purple Hyacinth, in case you haven’t noticed. I will make it out alive, making sure you make it out alive.”

“So much confidence, subordinate,” Lauren follows with a light chuckle of her own, stopping only when she registers the look on Kieran’s face. He seems to be taken aback with the mention of his old nickname, a nickname she hasn’t uttered in a while.

In the brief moment of tranquility, Kieran hesitates, mouth gaping open and closed, before saying: “Lauren, I—“

“Whatever it is, don’t,” Lauren stops him yet again. Kieran does not look surprised to hear it, but he pauses with a moment of sadness anyway. When neither of them speaks for a few seconds, Lauren explains, “I know what you’re going to say, and it’s not going to change anything.”

“It… won’t,” he agrees, but the gaze he gives her gave it away anyway—the yearning, the sadness, the _pain_ of their fate, knowing they’ll have to leave each other in the end. He wants to say it as much as she wants to hear it—that despite all things, despite everything in the past, everything they’ve done, what they had was… genuine. What they shared was, in some twisted way, a form of love.

But love doesn’t just triumph all, like the fairytales say. Love is power, but love is agony. Love is freedom and prison. It’s so real it looks like an illusion, and is unreachable as air is. Love has the amazing ability to make you love it, but kills you softly along the way. And yet you thank it. But love is twisted, love is hard. Rarely does love ever triumph.

Lauren doesn’t bother saying anything else as she stands up, leaving the apartment quietly, closing the door behind her. She doesn’t know whether they’d be able to speak the following day, in the precinct, where they’re still supposed to keep a cover. She doesn’t know whether they will even speak in the night of the ball where everything goes down and they could possibly die. She doesn’t know whether she’d see his face for even another time, with their very high stakes of dying.

And that night—she doesn’t like to hope, but that night—she dreams. It’s another happy dream, similar to the others, the ones with Dylan, the ones with her parents. This time, one of the few times, it’s with Kieran. They’re together, just living life like regular people would. It’s a dream that’s been around for a while, and she’d always wake up hating him and herself more.

But tonight, she tells herself: _someday we will meet again_.

**Author's Note:**

> this is just about the third? fourth? fifth time i’ve written something under a similar premise, but i can’t help it. i just realized this song suits the eternal lauki mood so much, and i needed to gift heather something, so i decided to break abstinence to write this. (i know it's probably not as good as my other fics—but my brain is a bit burnt out from everything in life so yeah have this.)
> 
> uh, hope you enjoyed it somehow. short, not too sad, but yeah. HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN HEATHER ILY <3
> 
> ———
> 
> for reference, the translation of the song lyrics:
> 
> _Don’t say anything  
>  If it’s about the past  
> Because there are so many misunderstandings  
> In all those stories_
> 
> _Don’t ask me  
>  If it’s about the past  
> Because I can’t tell you the truth  
> No matter what answer it is_
> 
> _Just bury them in your heart  
>  Words you wanted to say  
> Even the scattered memories  
> That we called love_
> 
> _I’m sure we’ll meet again  
>  Then you can hug me  
> Instead of the words I’m sorry  
> That you couldn’t bear to say today_
> 
> _Don’t turn around  
>  If you’re going farther away  
> I left with a smile  
> But I’m still crying_
> 
> _Don’t wait for me  
>  If you’re going farther away  
> This foolish longing  
> Has become hatred_
> 
> _Just bury them in your heart  
>  Words you wanted to say  
> Even the scattered memories  
> That we called love_
> 
> _I’m sure we’ll meet again  
>  Then you can hug me  
> Instead of the words I’m sorry  
> That you couldn’t bear to say today  
> Instead of the words I love you_


End file.
